Everything Starts to Rewind
by icedintheveins
Summary: After senior year, Blaine moves to New York to attend NYADA with Rachel and Kurt. The adjustment is much more difficult than he believed it would be, and he relapses. Part of the The Closest to Heaven series. Unbeta'd. WARNINGS: depression, mentions of self-harm and suicide.


Moving to New York is hard enough. It's far away from home, crowded, and way too big for Blaine to feel comfortable – not to mention the additional difficulties Blaine has to go through in finding a new therapist and a reliable, yet cheap pharmacy that his health insurance will cater to. And then of course, there has to be this giant fiasco of miscommunication with his insurance company, and they think he's being taken off of his parents plan and moved into his own, except he's _not_. He can barely afford his share of the apartment with Kurt, Santana, and Rachel, let alone pay for anything else. He hasn't even found a decent job yet, for god's sake. He's living off the money he saved up over the summer working at the Lima Bean.

Once he's back on his parents' plan, Blaine breathes a little easier, but that's only the beginning of his problems, and soon enough, he's wishing he had just stayed back in Ohio for awhile – gone to the University of Cincinnati. He's familiar enough with the city anyway – what with spending every other Saturday there for the past two years.

But then again – it's New York, and Blaine's going to his dream school of NYADA. Two years ago, he wouldn't have even thought he could do this, but he's here, and he's with _Kurt,_ and he's not going to let a few bumps in the road bring him down. Not when he's worked so hard to overcome mountains that were much bigger.

.

.

The goodbyes are exchanged on August 6th. Blaine, Kurt, Santana, and Rachel's plane leaves at five minutes to noon, and at eleven thirty, three very emotional families stand outside terminal #467. Hiram Berry is crying into a handkerchief while Leroy is fixing the collar of Rachel's shirt. Kurt is crying openly into Carole's shoulder as Finn stands awkwardly off to the side, waiting for either Kurt or Rachel to turn toward him. Santana's trying not to cry as she holds onto her mother's hands, but she's failing miserably.

Blaine's throat is tight as he hugs Cooper. His mother has been crying since eight that morning, and his father has this sincere look of pride glowing in his expression. As Blaine pulls away, Cooper looks at him with this huge, lopsided smile.

"You have fun in New York, bud."

Blaine smiles back, and his eyes are wet. "I'll do my best."

His mom's next, and she pulls Blaine into her bone-crushing grip. She hiccups a little as she finally releases him, staring at her son with trembling lips, eyes shining with encouragement. "Good luck, Blaine. And remember – don't waste any time finding a therapist, okay? With all the stress of college, you'll need one. I gave you that list of the ones I talked to – go in and meet and talk with them and pick the one you feel most comfortable with. I don't care how much it costs just as long as you keep getting the help you need."

"Yeah, yeah," Blaine mutters. "I got it, Mom."

"Are you sure, because – "

"_Mom_," Blaine says sternly, and he's smirking now. "Mom, I'll be fine – trust me. I still have Marianne's number and e-mail and everything just in case I can't find someone soon enough."

"Okay," his mother says, nodding to herself. She presses a hand to Blaine's shoulder. "But you really need to make sure you take care of yourself."

"I will," Blaine promises, laughing slightly. "I promise, Mom."

"Oh, Clara," his father says, cutting in when she opens her mouth again. Blaine thanks him with a look of relief. "Blaine'll be fine. Stop worrying, honey. I trust you," he says to Blaine, winking.

"Thanks," Blaine replies, and he moves forward, wrapping his arms around his father. He revels in the moment, still so thankful for the healing and the reconstruction of their relationship these past two years have given.

His father's quiet as he straightens up, and for a long moment, he just stares at Blaine, a small grin on his face.

"You're going to make me proud, kid. I know it."

Blaine laughs again, much more nervous than humorous. "I hope so."

"You will," his father says seriously, and he reaches out, attempting to ruffle Blaine's hair – which doesn't go over too well considering he's wearing a good two handfuls of gel. The two of them laugh, and everyone crowds around Blaine for one last family hug.

When the kids finally board the plane, Blaine his holding on tightly to Kurt's hand. Swarms of butterflies are flying around in his stomach, and he can't calm them. He looks back as they step onto the terminal, watching as his parents and brother wave at him. He waves back, and tears finally fall as he walks away, the view disappearing.

.

.

The apartment is spacious, but not necessarily bigger. It's much different than what Blaine was expecting, but after only one hour, he's starting to feel at home here. He doesn't have his own room yet – he's sharing with Kurt – but with the rent being split between four people, they'll be making enough money to get him his own furniture soon enough.

In fact, after just a week and a half, Kurt comes home from work with a thick wad of cash and waves it Blaine's face.

"Come on," he says, beckoning for Blaine to stand up. "We're going to get you your own room now."

It's a long day browsing New York for secondhand pieces of furniture – huge numbers of dressers, nightstands, and desks – but eventually they find things sturdy enough for Blaine to use. They buy his mattress straight from Slumberland, because Kurt knows sleep is key to Blaine staying happy and healthy, which he_ really _needs after moving across the northeast.

In the end, Blaine ends up sharing a room with Kurt. His bed is set up kitty corner Kurt's bed, his nightstand right next to it, and his desk across from it. His dresser is put next to Kurt's taller wardrobe, as is an old coat hanger Kurt found at a storage sale.

The first night alone in his bed is cold. He misses Kurt's body pressed up against his, but as the week continues on, Blaine becomes more comfortable on his own, greedily hugging the covers around himself and snoozing comfortably in a the cocoon of blankets and pillows.

And every day, Kurt finds more and more little trinkets on the streets, at flea markets and at yard sales, in ads in the paper, and he brings the items home to help Blaine make the place a little more his own.

.

.

Two weeks into the move, Blaine gets into a fight with his family's insurance company. He's still getting healthcare through his parents, but the company seems to think otherwise, because when Blaine goes down to the pharmacy, they tell him he can't have his prescription until he pays the ridiculous price. He protests, telling them that his insurance paid for most of it, but the pharmacist disagrees. She brings up his records and shows him because he hasn't paid for his insurance, they won't pay for his medication.

Blaine storms from the pharmacy, anger flaring up inside him as he heads outside and walks back home. Obviously, his insurance company has made a _huge _mistake, but beside that fact – how is he supposed to keep going without his medication? He'll kill himself by the end of the week, and three attempts is still enough for a lifetime.

He ends up back in the apartment, pacing around his "room" as he waits for the insurance company to take him off hold. It takes about forty-five minutes for him to be connected to a representative, and even then, his problem isn't solved quickly. Blaine's not sure how this person was hired in the first place because they seem to have one of the lowest IQs he's ever encountered. After an hour, he can't deal any longer, and pinching the bridge of his nose, he asks to be connected to someone of higher rank.

Kurt comes home when he's on hold for the second time, bearing groceries and bright smile. He calls out Blaine's name, and when his boyfriend doesn't answer, he seeks him out, finding him sitting on his bed and chewing on his lip, tapping his foot impatiently. Immediately, his smile fades, and he looks concerned. He mouths Blaine's name, but Blaine shoos him away.

Eventually, Blaine's connected to another representative, someone who actually seems intelligent. He explains the situation, the mistake on the insurance company's part, and the representative apologizes over and over, promising Blaine he'll call the pharmacy as soon as they hang up so Blaine can get his medication in the morning. Blaine thinks him, exhausted, but relieved.

As soon as Blaine hangs up, Kurt comes back into the room, a little wary.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, and Blaine nods, running a hand through his hair. "What happened?" he presses carefully, and Blaine shakes his head before he replies.

"I went in to get my medication today, and they wouldn't give it to me," he starts quietly, looking away from Kurt and rubbing his fingers over his mouth. "The insurance company messed up, and I've been on the phone with them all day." He sighs heavily and leans his head on Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt smiles sadly, wrapping his arm around Blaine's waist, pulling him closer. "Well, you've got it all figured out, now, right?"

Blaine hums a yes into shirt.

"And I can run and get your prescription in the morning, if you want – that way you can sleep in."

Blaine lifts his head slightly, looking up at Kurt with tired eyes. "Would you do that?"

"Of course," Kurt replies, and he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to Blaine's forehead. "You just relax."

Blaine sighs, happily this time, and wraps his arms around Kurt, hugging him weakly. New York isn't as easy as Blaine thought it would be, but Kurt's trying his best to make it feel that way, and Blaine appreciates it more than he can imagine.

.

.

The first month in New York goes by, making it the end of his second week of classes. Already, Blaine's starting to feel overwhelmed. He didn't overload on classes; Marianne wouldn't let him. He's taking it easy, and that's just fine. He already has a significant amount of credits thanks to the number of advanced classes he took at Dalton and McKinley.

But there's still so much he hasn't done. He's got a place to stay, and his prescription, but he still needs a therapist, he still needs a job, he still needs to get out of the house and get around the city, he still needs to make new friends and not feel so awkward when he goes out with Kurt, Rachel, and Santana.

Kurt tries to convince him that it's okay. He works at Vogue, for Christ's sake. He makes more than enough money to help support Blaine. In fact, the only reason they asked Blaine to help split the payments was so that he wouldn't feel like a freeloader. He already has a complex when it comes to feeling like a burden; Kurt didn't want to add to that. But he also doesn't want Blaine to stress about finding a job and putting too much on his plate. He doesn't want Blaine to worry about money, worry about providing for everyone else. Kurt just wants Blaine to worry about Blaine.

In addition, Kurt assures Blaine that he doesn't need to worry about meeting new people just yet. He's only been living in New York for four weeks. He's got plenty of time. As for the nights they go out, Kurt will always be by Blaine's side. What else are boyfriends for? Blaine's not losing Kurt, not in the slightest, and the friends they all have on this side is nothing in comparison to the companionship they have from New Directions.

Kurt wraps an arm around Blaine and rubs his upper arm. He leans over, kissing Blaine lightly on the temple, and Blaine responds by ducking his head, resting it on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt pulls him closer and presses his cheek against the top of Blaine's head.

Kurt's right, Blaine knows, but he can't shake the feeling of disappointment that fills him up. He knows he shouldn't be so worried about half the things he is; he just can't help it. He wants everything to be done now. He wants to be settled in his new home, content and happy. He wants the journey there to be smooth, but it's not and it makes him so incredibly anxious.

He'll be fine, eventually. The stress will melt away and he'll feel okay in this new place. He's just having trouble adjusting, and that's what he tells Kurt.

He'll be fine.

Really.

.

.

* * *

**Marianne Baker** (mbaker )  
to: **Blaine Anderson** (blaine_anderson )

* * *

Hello, Blaine!

I know you must busy with everything in New York, but I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. You sounded very excited in your last e-mail, so I hope everything is living up to your expectations.

School started up here at Cincinnati just last week, and I've already seen a number of kids – both in the Psychology program and out. I know NYADA's fall semester started a bit earlier than us, and I hope you're doing well with your classes. You're a very talented young man. I'm sure you're already blowing your professors away!

However, I also know how stressful college can be. Always know that you can talk to me, Blaine. We might not be able to meet in person, but you can e-mail me your troubles, or call me – you have both my office number and my cell phone. I might not always be able to pick up at that moment, but I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

Take it easy, and stay safe!

Yours truly,  
Marianne

* * *

**Blaine Anderson** (blaine_anderson )  
to: **Marianne Baker** (mbaker )

* * *

Marianne,

Adjusting to New York is proving to be a bit more difficult than I thought, but my friends are really helping me. Classes aren't so bad. They're stressful, but I've applied all the coping skills you've taught me and I'm sure I'm far better off than some other students here. I should probably point the kid in my improv class to the school psychiatrist. I think he could use a bit of help.

I haven't found a therapist yet, but maybe I'm just biased because I can't find anyone as good as you. Kurt tells me I'm being too picky, but who knows – maybe I can fend from just these e-mails, or like you suggested – calling you. Even talking to Kurt himself helps. I'll find one eventually, but I think I'm faring pretty well for now.

Thank you for your concern, and good luck with all the student breakdowns.

Sincerely,  
Blaine

* * *

Blaine feels bad about sugarcoating everything (he's not lying, _he's not_), but he's tired of worrying people. He'll be okay. Give him a few more weeks, give him a month. He'll have everything worked out and he'll be right into the swing of things again. He doesn't need to bug everyone else with his temporary problems.

He can figure this out on his own.

.

.

Near the end of September, Blaine gets a job. He's back working as a barista, this time at the coffee shop on campus, and Kurt likes to stop by during his shifts, right before dance class. Soon enough, Blaine always has a medium drip waiting for him, and Kurt takes it, paying Blaine with both cash and a gentle kiss.

Kurt pulls back and likes to see the blush on Blaine's cheeks, the smile that threatens to split his face.

Blaine's having a hard time, Kurt knows. And he also knows that there's nothing he can do to take away all of Blaine's pain. However, he can certainly try. He can try by being encouraging, by offering help and trying to make whatever he can easier for Blaine. It's not always enough, but sometimes it's a start.

.

.

It's a Friday, Blaine's tenth Friday in New York when Santana decides he needs to go out. He's already finished his Film paper, so he begrudgingly agrees. Rachel and Kurt trail along, and Kurt knows he's being overbearing, watching Santana haul Blaine along with a scrutinizing look, but he can't help it.

Rachel squeezes his arm gently as they walk, and he turns to look at her.

"He'll be fine, you know," she says, and Kurt glances at him. "He's smiling. Look."

He is. And his eyes are alive as he takes in all the lights, the rushing crowds, and the traffic-packed streets. Kurt remembers his first night in New York. His first trip to the bar with Rachel on his arm. They'd gotten outrageously drunk and performed karaoke for an hour straight. Now they have a tradition to do it at least once every month.

Blaine doesn't get drunk.

He has half a drink and then throws in the towel, telling Kurt quietly that he doesn't want to risk anything. He's gotten drunk a few times before, and alcohol doesn't mix well with anti-depressants, apparently.

Kurt doesn't argue.

Instead, he joins Blaine and orders water the next time around.

Santana and Rachel, however, continue with their cocktails, and near the end of the night, they do shots, giggling and snorting all over each other. By the time they go back home, Blaine looks hopelessly defeated, and once Rachel and Santana are asleep in their beds, Kurt approaches him.

"I'm sorry about tonight," he says quietly. "You didn't have very much fun, did you?"

"No – no, I did," Blaine protests, and a small smirk plays at his lips. "Watching Santana and Rachel drunkenly sing a Spice Girls medley in the middle of the subway is probably the highlight of the move so far."

"Then what – ?"

Blaine sighs, dropping himself onto the couch.

"Sometimes, I just feel so out of it," he admits. "Like I'm not even with you guys, like I'm far away, watching from a distance. I feel so separated because I can't just live my life the same way you guys can. I have to be careful and calculated. I have to think ahead so far just to keep myself in check. It just – it's exhausting."

"I'm sorry," Kurt says quietly, because it's the only thing he can say, even though he knows it won't help. He joins Blaine, sitting down and resting a hand on Blaine's knee.

Blaine doesn't say anything more. He just scoots closer to Kurt and leans his head back, closing his eyes.

.

.

* * *

**INBOX**

**Cooper Anderson** _I know you must be busy, but please … _Oct. 12th

**R. Freeburg** _Syllabus Update + Grading Announc … _ Oct. 11th

**Cooper Anderson** _Just checking in again. Mom said sh … _ Oct. 3rd

**Marianne Baker** That's good to hear, Blaine. I'm ver … Sep. 30th

**Cooper Anderson** _Hey, bud. How's NYC treating you s … _ Sep. 25th

**Cooper Anderson** _I have some good news for you. I ho … _Sep. 10th

* * *

Blaine clicks on the e-mail from Professor Freeburg, ignoring the guiltthat swallows his insides as he again steers clear of Cooper's messages. He knows Cooper must be worried, knows he's probably a little shaken up. Blaine isn't the only one who's gone through a lot in the past few years. Cooper's always tried to be there for him, despite Blaine's terrible track record with keeping him in the loop.

Marianne would be disappointed in him, Blaine knows, but he doesn't care. He doesn't have the strength to talk to Cooper right now. He doesn't have the energy and the patience to fill up a five-page e-mail with a bunch of lies about how great New York is and how glad he is to be here.

He'll e-mail Cooper eventually, he will.

Just not now.

.

.

_BigTimeCooper is calling you_.

Blaine looks up at the message from Skype, sighing heavily and internally cursing himself for forgetting to list himself as offline. He sighs, moving the mouse to click_ Accept_. Bitterly, he thinks this must be karma catching up with him. He can only hide for so long.

Blaine's just glad it's not a video call. Cooper lost his microphone after the last time they Skyped, and apparently, he still hasn't found it.

**BigTimeCooper** [ 7: 13: 26 PM ]: Well, well, well. Look who finally picks up.

**BAnderson** [ 7: 14: 05 PM ]: I'm sorry. It's been hectic.

**BigTimeCooper **[ 7: 14: 46 PM ]: Too hectic for you to reply a couple of emails? I know you've been e-mailing Marianne still. Mom told me. They've been in contact, too.

**BAnderson** [ 7: 17: 21 PM ]: I'm sorry. I just know Marianne will freak out if I don't e-mail her within three days.

**BigTimeCooper** [ 7: 18: 56 PM ]: And I wouldn't? Blaine, you haven't e-mailed me since before school started. I've sent you like six e-mails since then. You haven't replied to a single one – plus you never answer your phone. I was about ready to lose my mind.

**BAnderson** [ 7: 21: 48 PM ]: Why? I'm just busy.

**BigTimeCooper** [7: 22: 34 PM ]: That's a lie and you know it. College isn't easy, Blaine. You're stressed, you're overwhelmed, I get it. And that's not good for you. That's why I'm worried. Now be honest – how are you?

**BAnderson** [ 7: 24: 27 PM ]: I'm fine, Cooper.

**BigTimeCooper [** 7: 24: 52 PM ]: You're lying.

**BAnderson** [ 7: 25: 36 PM ]: How can you tell?

**BigTimeCooper** [ 7: 26: 17 PM ]: You're taking way too long to answer my questions.

**BAnderson** [ 7: 27: 43 PM ]: I'm doing homework.

**BigTimeCooper** [ 7: 27:57 PM ]: You're lying.

**BAnderson** [ 7: 29: 32 PM ]: Can we not have this conversation on Skype?

**BigTimeCooper **[ 7: 29: 49 PM ]: Fine then you better pick up your damn phone.

_BigTimeCooper is offline_.

Blaine sighs, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his eyes. He's too tired for this.

His phone vibrates almost immediately, and he glares at it before picking it up. He swipes his finger across the screen, accepting the call, and holds the phone up to his ear with a huff.

"Don't be mad at me, Blaine. I'm worried."

"I know," Blaine says quietly, heaving a deep breath. "_I know. _But I'm just – I hate when everyone worries about me, Cooper. You know that. I feel like I'm under so much pressure already, and I don't want to have to please everyone else."

"You don't have to please anyone, Blaine. That's the point." Cooper lowers his voice now, making it softer, gentler. "Me, Mom, Dad, Marianne – we just want you to be honest with us. You're allowed to feel sad. You're allowed to feel overwhelmed. You're allowed to feel like it's all too much, but just tell us that. We're here to help."

"I'm not supposed to need help," Blaine says, but it's more like a whisper. "I'm supposed to be past this."

"No one's ever past bad days, Blaine."

Days, maybe.

But weeks? Almost months?

Blaine's scared, to be honest. He's scared because it's not just bad days anymore. It's not just a rough week. He thought he recovered a long time ago, but he's slipping again. He's falling back into bad habits, falling back into those awful thoughts and those moments of weakness. He doesn't want to be, but he is.

"It's just hard, Cooper," Blaine says honestly. "There's so much to do, so much to be done. Sometimes I feel like I can't keep up."

"And that's okay," Cooper says. "Moving out, going to a university, having to live on your own – it isn't easy. It's really fucking hard, but you're not alone, Blaine. You're living with your friends. Let them help you."

"I – I know. I'm trying, Coop. I really am."

"Good."

They fall into silence, and Blaine is thankful. He appreciates Cooper's concern, but he's more than ready to be done with this conversation.

"I'll let you go," Cooper sighs, "but promise me you'll keep me updated."

"I promise," Blaine says, and he imagines his fingers are crossed behind his back.

.

.

On Halloween, Kurt, Rachel, and Santana go out. Blaine says he has a project to finish, but Kurt knows he just doesn't feel up to it. Kurt wants Blaine to come, wants to try and meld him into their activities, show him that he doesn't have to isolate himself. But at the same time, Kurt won't push Blaine. He doesn't want to make Blaine uncomfortable.

He leaves Blaine with a rough kiss and tells him he'll be back soon, earlier than Santana and Rachel, that's for sure. Blaine tells him not to worry about it, but of course he does. He doesn't want Blaine to spend the entire night alone.

When Kurt finally arrives home, however, Blaine's fallen asleep in front of the TV. He smiles before hoisting Blaine into his arms and carrying him to bed. When he hits the mattress, he cracks open his eyes, staring up at Kurt.

"Kurt? What's – going on?"

"You fell asleep on the couch," Kurt replies, pulling the blanket up to his chest.

"Hmmm. Did you have fun?"

Kurt shrugs. "It was fine. But you weren't there."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

.

.

Kurt makes it up to Blaine, or Blaine makes it up to Kurt, depending on who's looking at it. But they go out the next Saturday, and they don't drink. They have dinner, and they see an Off-Off-Broadway show. Blaine feels bad about the expenses, but Kurt waves it off. He's employed at Vogue after all.

.

.

It's around mid-semester when Blaine cracks, and Kurt comes home to find him sitting on the floor of the kitchen, a knife on the floor next to him. Immediately, Kurt falls to his knees beside Blaine, stomach lurching as he searches desperately for blood.

There isn't any.

"I couldn't do it," Blaine whispers through tears, shoving his face into Kurt's chest as Kurt wraps a tentative arm around him. "I wanted to, but I couldn't."

Kurt doesn't ask if he's talking about self-harm or suicide, and he decides that really, he doesn't want to know. All he wants to know is how to help, how to make things easier on Blaine.

"Blaine?" he asks carefully.

"Yeah?"

"Is it alright if I call Marianne?"

"Yes."

.

.

Marianne reprimands Blaine, of course. When Kurt hands him the phone, she clicks her tongue and immediately starts tell him how important it is that he talks, that he doesn't continue to bottle things up like he used to.

"But I'm glad you let Kurt call me, Blaine. That was the right decision."

Blaine nods, mostly to himself.

"Now – do you want to tell me what happened today?"

Blaine looks at Kurt, uncertain, but he supposes Kurt deserves the truth, too. He puts up with a lot to be there for Blaine.

"I felt . . . overwhelmed," Blaine starts. "A lot's been going on, and I just – I kind of lost it. I felt like I needed to do something, anything to calm down, and I felt that urge to self-harm, so I – I went into the kitchen and I grabbed a knife, but I – I couldn't do it." His eyes are watery now, his voice shaky. "We've worked so hard over the past few years to get me to stop, and I didn't – I didn't want to go down that road again."

"Well," Marianne sighs. "I'm glad you were able to stop yourself."

There's a moment of silence before she continues. "Blaine, do you have a new therapist, yet?"

" . . . No."

Marianne hums. "Then I think it might be best if you and I started scheduling appointments again.

His brows furrow, and he sits up a bit straighter. "How – "

"Your brother talked to me," Marianne continues. "Well, he e-mailed me. He said he was worried about you, and that maybe I should put forth more of an effort to check up on you, since he seemed to think you were hiding things from me."

A blush flares up Blaine's cheeks, and he looks down at his lap sheepishly.

"He suggested Skype," Marianne says. "Now, it's not traditionally how we do things around here, but you've been my patient for three years, Blaine, and we've made a lot of progress together. I would hate for all of that to go to waste."

Blaine nods again, biting his lip. He takes a moment to think to himself, to weigh his options. He could continue sticking this out by himself, half-heartedly searching for a therapist and drowning in unnecessary anxiety. Or he could Skype with Marianne bi-weekly. He thinks it's an obvious choice, here.

"How does that sound, Blaine?"

"I think it sounds like a great idea," Blaine says quietly, and he breathes a small sigh of relief.

"Good," Marianne says, and he can hear the smile in her voice. "I'll look at my schedule and e-mail you a date and a time. In the meantime, you've got great friends, Blaine. You've got a wonderful family. Let them help you. It doesn't make you weak, Blaine – you know that. Ease the burden on yourself. Give yourself a break and let your mind and your body adjust. You hang in there, kid – alright? And stop hiding everything away. Be honest, and voice your problems, okay? Will you promise me you'll do that?"

"I promise," Blaine says, and this time, it isn't empty.

Marianne wishes him goodbye, and he does the same in return before hanging up and giving Kurt back his cell phone.

"You know she's right," Kurt says quietly, and then he smiles. "I could hear."

He leans forward, pressing a hand to Blaine's cheek. "I'm here to help, Blaine. I've told you that time and time again. So are Santana and Rachel. So is Cooper, your parents – _let us help you_."

Blaine presses his lips together, swallowing hard. "I just – I feel like I should be able do all of this by myself. I thought I could finally handle everything."

Kurt shakes his head. "Not everything, Blaine. You don't think it took me awhile to adjust? God, I cried every night for the first two weeks because I was so homesick. Sometimes, I would forget to do the dishes, or even the laundry – even though I already knew how to live on my own. It wasn't the same. I was in a new place, with a new routine, and new roommates. It was difficult, but I did it, and so can you, Blaine. Rachel helped me, and Santana. And now we'll help you."

He rubs his thumb back and forth across Blaine's cheek before leaning in and capturing Blaine's lips with his own.

"I love you."

Blaine smiles shyly. "I love you, too."

.

.

After Blaine's first Skype appointment with Marianne, Kurt takes him, Santana, and Rachel out for dinner. Blaine doesn't try the wine, but he doesn't need to. He holds Kurt's hand over the table, and laughs as Santana people watches, making comments the whole way. Rachel smiles at him once he does, and he thinks that maybe, finally, he has a home in this city.

* * *

**A/N: I reminisced a bit about the theories developed after _The Breakup_, and needed to get some of my emotions out. I found this oneshot unfinished in my documents folder, and now here we are.**


End file.
